


tokens of affection

by Areiton



Series: Without Words - Stony Love Confessions [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Gifts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: He realizes, about halfway through the truly giant cup of coffee, that he has aproblem.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Without Words - Stony Love Confessions [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748689
Comments: 14
Kudos: 278





	tokens of affection

Not every morning--but most of them--Steve come back from his runs, flush and beautiful, sweat glistening on his skin, so damn distracting Tony can barely manage a full sentence, even when he  _ has _ had coffee.

It's a problem, is what it is. Because Steve is sweet and earnest and a secret asshole, and he's so damn  _ gorgeous _ he's a fucking  _ hazard _ . 

It gets worse. Tony is stumbling out of the elevator, and makes a pitiful noise when he finds the coffee pot empty. 

"J," he says. 

"There's no coffee in the residence, sir," JARVIS answers, prompt and he  _ sounds _ contrite. 

Tony blinks three times, trying to process that, trying to make it make  _ sense _ , and then the elevator opens and Steve spills out and his smile--sunshine bright and distracting for a heartbeat, so distracting Tony forgets the problem of no coffee. 

"Shit," he says, "I tried to beat you."

Tony blinks, uncertain and Steve comes closer. 

He smells like wind and sweat and--Oh god, he smells like  _ coffee _ .

A giant cup is pressed into his hand, and Steve smiles at him, utterly beautiful and unaware of how he's turning Tony's world on it's head. "I brought you a cup of coffee," he says and Tony makes a noise, all lost and happy and confused. 

He realizes, about halfway through the truly giant cup of coffee, that he has a  _ problem _ . 

~*~ 

Tony steals hoodies. 

He's pretty indiscriminate about it, but his favorite hoodie is an Air Force sweatshirt, an old faded thing, too big, with peeling letters. He curls in it during movie nights when Rhodey is on missions, and stumbles into breakfast in it for almost a week straight before Pepper commandeers it, the one time Rhodey is injured. He uses it as a pillow sometimes, and plays with the sleeves during mission debrief, when he slides it on over his flightsuit, an oversized hoodie and skintight pants and bare feet with oddly delicate toes. 

There are others--an MIT hoodie that Rhodey huffs when he sees, a few SI hoodies, an Ironman one whose hood looks like the faceplate. 

But the one Steve finds--he smiles, his lips twitching at it. All brushed metal grey and red accents, and an imposing, severe faceplate that even like this makes him shiver. 

He gets two, because Rhodey is in the Tower and it never hurts, trying to convince the Colonel to like him. 

When he gets back to the Tower, he drops the bag in Tony's lap with a smile, and ignores the way he looks so soft, so warm and cuddly as he leans against Rhodey. 

He ignores Rhodey's sharp, knowing gaze, and averts his eyes. 

"There's somethin' in there for you too, Colonel." 

That distracts him, and Steve breathes out, relieved, because he wants to watch. 

He doesn't want to miss this: the breathless, happy noise Tony makes when he sprawls the hoodie over his lap. The way his eyes go bright and amused, laughter curling up the edges of his lips, and spilling over when Rhodey makes a disgruntled noise. The flash of his belly when he yanks off the Air Force hoodie, his arms bare and strong and mouth-water, before he's shoving his way, graceless and eager, into the new hoodie. 

Tony flops the hood over his head, and War Machine scowls at Steve over Tony's bright grin. 

"How do I look?" Tony asks, preening, and Steve opens his mouth--

He has no idea what he's going to say, but he's never going to not answer Tony. 

"I'm not wearing that," Rhodey says, flatly and Tony laughs and he doesn't have to answer. 

He smiles, pleased, and slips away, and doesn't noticed Rhodey watching him go, a speculative glint in his gaze. 

~*~ 

The first one Tony finds is small and black, with gold accents and tiny, tight, clockwork gears. 

He runs a finger over it, and DUM-E pushes against his shoulder, curious and a little bit jealous. 

DUM-E loves his brothers and sister, but he always gets territorial when a new bot shows up. And this--tiny with a little windup lever on it's back--it's a bot. 

He smiles, puts it near his keyboard and coffee, and goes back to work. 

He finds the second--a red and white thing similar to the first, but holding a drum of all things--two days later, in a drawer with his wrenches. 

The third and fourth he finds almost at the same time, blue and yellow respectively, and from there, it's not an oddity--it's a game. 

They invariably appear in the workshop, after Tony's taken a break and returned--he thinks the positive reinforcement is heavy handed but effective and sweet. 

Sometimes DUM-E or U will find them, and delicately bring them to Tony. The bots seem to realize the small metal cousins are not like them, are just facsimiles of what they are, lifeless shells, that hover herdlike around his keyboard, that keep his coffee cup company and make him smile. 

He sees Steve, slipping from his workshop, a secretive smile on his lips, and wonders where he'll find his new bot this time. 

He thinks, rubbing at the sweet ache in his chest, that the discovery is half the gift that Steve is giving him. 

~*~ 

The thing is--he knows. He knows that Tony is beautiful, knows that the curl of heat and nerves that spike in his belly when he's greeted with Tony's sharp smile and sleepy softness and manic energy and brilliant mind--all of it. He knows what it means. The others joke about him being too innocent, but he grew up in Red Hook, and Bucky Barnes was his best friend, and he went to  _ war _ , for god's sake. 

He knows what  _ want _ is, knows that he wants Tony, sprawled out naked and begging, wants him curled warm and asleep, wants him rolling his hips lazily as Steve fucks up into him, eyes shinning, and lips curled in that sweet, satisfied smile--he wants it all, a thousand nights and more. 

But it's when he's ordering a slice of cake that he realizes it's  _ more _ than that.

It's silly, he thinks, losing his shit over something as small as a piece of chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting. 

But all he can think is  _ Tony would love it. _

Sam is watching him, a knowing smirk on his face, and he says, "You just caught up, huh, Steve?" 

"I think," Steve says, thickly. "I think I did." 

~*~ 

The press is waiting, is the thing. And Tony--Tony had slipped out for a coffee and a danish, but he hadn't really thought he'd be called to intervene between the NYPD and the fucking Winter Soldier, he didn't think he'd have to face the press before he had his goddman coffee. 

Bucky Barnes is quiet, strangely fragile, and Tony bites back his sigh as a sea of reporters shout beyond their car door. 

Steve is wading through them. Makes sense, Tony thinks. 

He wonders what'll happen now. If that kiss from weeks ago, chocolate and peanut butter and  _ Steve _ will ever become-- _ more _ . He exhales. 

Time to exit stage left--deal with the vulture, while Steve gets Bucky to safety. That's his part to play in this. 

He pats at his pockets, and his heart lurches as he realizes he doesn't even have sunglasses. 

Fuck. 

Fuck every fucking thing. 

Barnes shifts, and Tony smiles at him. None of this is his fault. And Steve--god he will be so happy. Even if it means he won't be with  _ Tony _ , he'd never begrudge Steve that happiness, that piece fo his life. 

"Ready, Freeze Pop?" 

Barnes nods, and Tony pushes the door open. 

Steve reaches them, and ducks down quickly, his gaze tracking over them both as he reaches into his pocket and presses something into Tony's hand. 

"Sam's gonna meet you in the garage, Buck," Steve says, and his voice is rolling warm and smooth, steadying. 

Tony's fingers close over the sunglasses that Steve's produced. There's--

There's a tag on them, tiny and plastic and obnoxious and Steve reaches out, plucks it free with a twitch of his fingers and his gaze lands on Tony, steady and still so warm. 

"Tony and I are gonna deal with the press and we'll be right behind you." 

"You can go with Bucky," Tony says, and Steve fingers tighten on his---when the hell did he grasp Tony's hand---and that, that more than anything rights his world. 

"I'm not lettin' you do this alone, Tony," Steve, Captain America, says, like it's obvious, and maybe it is. 

"Ready?" Steve asks, unknowingly echoing Tony and he thinks, as he slips on the sunglasses and slips out, shark sharp smile fixed in place and Steve steady at his side--he thinks maybe he was wrong. 

~*~ 

It takes time--time and a legal battle and a lot of long nights working through nightmares, long nights working through tech. It takes time, working through everything Bucky has been through. 

But there is this: 

Coffee in the morning. Stolen hoodies. A growing herd of robots. Brief, sweet kisses stolen over chocolate cake and take out boxes. 

There is this--something sweet and warm and real, between the two of them. 

It takes time, time that both are willing to give. Until the night comes that Bucky shoves Steve out of their rooms, orders him to Tony. 

Tony who meets him with a warm smile and gentle hands and eager kisses. 

He curls next to Tony under a thick blanket and there’s the taste of chocolate and coffee smeared between them, and tiny robots filling up Tony’s work station, and Tony warm, and sleepy and naked against him. 

He curls next to Tony under a thick blanket that looks like his shield, and basks in the warmth of his love, draped over him, heavy and warm. 


End file.
